


make her purr

by vierqote (counterserum)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A slight voice kink anyway, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Nonbinary Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterserum/pseuds/vierqote
Summary: She can draw every sort of cry, every curse and praise, her own name and the Twelve’s from Raisa’s lips, but she cannot get her to purr. It should not be as maddening as it is, but Merlwyb wants to hear it.





	make her purr

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly an indulgent fic written because I like that Miqo'te can purr and have vocalizations unique to them. Full-Bodied will be finished - eventually sdkfjhd. I'm just writing in lieu of Inktober because of tendonitis. 8')

**M**erlwyb slides her hands up Raisa’s thighs, squeezing them hard before trailing one further up to tug the miqo’te straddling her lap down into a breathless kiss. The afterglow is warm, and she finds herself selfishly wishing to stay there, even with all she is designated to do that morning. Raisa’s tail lashes lazily as if in acknowledgement of their mutual begrudgement, tickling her bare skin and drawing an involuntary shudder from Merlwyb as she huffs against her lover’s lips.

When Raisa moves to push herself off the roegadyn after what feels like bells, Merlwyb finds herself grasping the smaller woman’s hips, pulling her back into place astride her. “A moment more,” She grumbles, sitting up to better pull Raisa into her arms. “I have not the patience for my advisors or diplomacy today.”

Raisa snorts and sits herself more comfortably on the Admiral’s thighs, calloused palms braced on her shoulders as she leans up for another kiss, prepared to chide her after. “Nor did you last night, my friend, but - ” 

Merlwyb returns the kiss, cutting her off mid-sentence when she scrapes her teeth over her lower lip. She is rewarded with a groan and a playful swat at her chest, but it does little to distract her from her goal. One hand engulfing Raisa’s hip strays further  _ in _ , its thumb teasing the soft, warm lips between the smaller woman’s legs before pressing rather insistently against her clit while the other trails up her stomach, brushing over the pale scar tissue crossing her chest.

This time, her reward is something akin to a yowl and short nails carving impressions of themselves into her biceps. Raisa shudders and presses her face into Merlwyb’s chest, swearing. She is still slick from their earlier lovemaking, a cursory swipe between her lips tells her before she withdraws her hand, bringing her thumb to her lips to taste the salt left behind.

“ _ Fuck you _ , that’s not fair,” Raisa’s voice shivers with her as her hips roll forward, demanding further attention. “One of us needs some semblance of -  _ aaa _ ah w-wait don’t stop!”

Merlwyb chuckles darkly, her thumb is already back to kneading Raisa’s clit before she can finish speaking, and her lover responds in kind, biting at her breast to stifle a cry. 

She does things like that - touches with intent - to draw the different sounds her lover makes from her. Raisa has a beautiful voice: low and  _ warm;  _ she adores the way the miqo’te cries out and whimpers in response to her touch. Merlwyb has always loved experimenting on her lovers, finding satisfaction in the sounds they make because of her, but as of late her time with Raisa has been spent in search of something she’s received from lovers past, but not her.

Miqo’te are strange by roegadyn standards (too small, too animal in behavior and looks), but Limsa is home to so many it is hard not to have encounters with them. Of all her miqo’te lovers, Raisa is the only one who has not  _ purred _ for the Admiral. Though she did not think much of it when they first began their little affair, as it bloomed into something deeper, she found herself -  _ mayhap  _ a tinge frustrated.

She can draw every sort of cry, every curse and praise, her own name and the Twelve’s from Raisa’s lips, but she  _ cannot get her to purr _ . It should not be as maddening as it is, but Merlwyb wants to hear it.

Her thumb’s ministrations are joined by her middle and ring fingers, pressing into the slick heat of Raisa’s sex. Another yowl escapes the younger woman’s lips, and she is now grasping at Merlwyb’s rough hair to pull her down into a kiss. Merlwyb sighs against Raisa’s lips, but denies her, grasping her chin with her free hand as she tilts her head. “Look at me,” She growls, nuzzling her as compensation for the kiss. “I want to watch you come.”

It is still strange seeing Dalmud’s red in eyes where a softer, honey brown used to be, but the soul behind them is the same and Merlwyb loves her so deeply it hurts. Raisa is shy about being stared at so intensely, but her gaze does not waver from the Admiral’s as she comes, squeezing and fluttering around Merlwyb’s fingers.

She whimpers her name, grasping her hair so tightly it hurts, but Merlwyb does not draw her eyes from Raisa’s, circling her clit and pumping her fingers in time with Raisa’s twitches. “Good girl,” She croons, kissing the corners of her mouth, her jaw, her forehead, her ears. “That’s my girl, my darling, my  _ love _ .”

Raisa’s breath hitches and she finally tears her eyes from Merlwyb’s, embarrassed. She bites her lip, still rocking herself upon Merlwyb’s fingers as her waves die down. Though it is satisfying to see her like this - flushed, needy, shaking with pleasure - Merlwyb cannot help her disappointment.

“A-ah,  _ stop _ , stop,” Raisa says, sliding herself off of Merlwyb’s fingers when it becomes too much. Merlwyb obliges her, holding her steady as she leaves her lap to nestle at her side with an exhausted little sigh. “Let me just - I need to - ”

Her hand grasps the roegadyn’s hip for support, and Merlwyb can feel her shaking all the more. “Take all the time you require,” Merlwyb tries to hide her frustration with her typical smug satisfaction. She cards her fingers through Raisa’s hair - softer than her own, she thinks - and pulls her closer. “I am not in any desire to leave soon.”

She has tried everything she can think of to draw those little noises of satisfaction, of pleasure, of  _ contentment  _ from her lover, yet her efforts go unrewarded. Still, her mood is not so soured that she will reject the hand brushing against her sex, or the pleasant warmth of Raisa as she rolls over to reposition herself between the Admiral’s legs. “Well,” She says, breathy, looking up at Merlwyb with a lazy smirk. “Far be it from me to tell you how to manage your time.” 

The miqo’te kisses her lower lips, and Merlwyb becomes acutely aware of how badly she’s been affected by Raisa’s whimpering and pleading. Her own warmth has devolved into a throbbing  _ need _ that responds to her touch with an almost painful twitch. As Raisa nuzzles her folds, parting them to draw her tongue over the hard nub of her clit, it is her turn to hiss and groan. 

Merlwyb spreads her legs and grasps her lover’s hair, tugging her closer with a growl. 

“Ow, careful!” Raisa scolds when Merlwyb tugs too hard, but the edge to her voice only drags another twitch from her. “You’re going to rip my hair out.”

“You’re alright,” Merlwyb groans, loosening her grip nonetheless and tilting her hips up insistently. “Suck.”

She is almost disappointed when Raisa has no snappy remark for her, but it is forgotten when her love buries her face between her legs and  _ nips  _ at her. “You want my fingers, too, dear?” Each word huffs more heat into her, and Merlwyb adores it. “Or just my mouth?”

Raisa laps at her clit with long, languid strokes, her fingers toying with her folds as she awaits Merlwyb’s answer.

“S-seven hells,” Merlwyb breathes, roughly petting Raisa in lieu of grasping at her hair. “Do as you will with me, girl, just  _ don’t. Stop. _ ”

And Raisa laughs against her in response, slipping three fingers into her with an ease that would be alarming were it anyone else between her legs. Time is nonexistent between them, lost in lazy warmth. When she feels herself drawing close, Merlwyb growls and nudges Raisa away, her sex throbbing  _ harder _ for the loss. 

“Up,” Merlwyb barks the command, laying back against the sheets until she is positioned just so. “I need - ”

But Raisa  _ knows _ and entwines her fingers with the roegadyn’s, grinning. Their legs tangle together, drawing their hips closer - ever closer - until the Raisa’s sex is pressed clumsily against hers. “That’s it,” Merlwyb groans, rocking her hips against Raisa’s. “There - that’s it - ”

It is awkward and rough and desperate, and Merlwyb cannot get enough of it. She wraps a leg around Raisa’s hips, pushing her to go  _ faster _ . She comes without thinking, bucking up into her lover’s heat with each pulse, her back arching off the bed.

Raisa keeps rutting against her, biting her lip to contain her cries as she fucks herself against Merlwyb. The Admiral groans her name and reaches up to pull her down for a kiss. She can taste herself on Raisa’s tongue and lips, and a small part of her brightens with smug delight at the thought of  _ marking  _ her love with her taste - her scent. “Selfish,” She teases as Raisa whimpers and writhes against her. “Using me for your pleasure, are you, my love?”

“Fuck you,” Raisa whines, the sound cutting off into a more feline yowl as she comes against Merlwyb. “ _ F-ffuck you,  _ I love you so much, I - ” She shudders and collapses against Merlwyb, panting hard. “I love you.”

Merlwyb drapes an arm over the warrior of light’s waist, sighing. “My love, my dearest,” She tugs Raisa up until her head is buried into the space between her neck and shoulder. “I love you so.” 

They lay there, Merlwyb stroking Raisa’s hair for a time before a soft rumble breaks through their quiet panting. She pauses, then grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Are you purring for me?”

“...Not at all.”

She does not complain when Raisa straddles her again - still purring - to kiss her. Her advisors will be sore she ignored them to roll around with the warrior of light (again), and yet she cannot say she regrets it. As she flips Raisa so the miqo’te is beneath her, nuzzling her way down her body just to hear that lovely rumble of affection, she finds her mind drifting towards more pleasant things than the squabbles of pirates and merchants and beastmen.

“I quite like it,” She breathes, and buries her face between Raisa’s thighs. “Purr for me, dearest.”

And Raisa does.


End file.
